


Before I Change My Mind

by actualgayrobot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, Lance is awkward and touches a titty for the first time, Masturbation, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualgayrobot/pseuds/actualgayrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance feels the need to reassure Pidge that her being a girl doesn't change their friendship. However, Lance's timing is... well, sub-par, at best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Change My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest, I have no idea how old these kids are. All I know is all five of them are teenagers. I'm just kind of assuming Pidge is 16, Lance and Hunk are 17, Keith is 18, and Shiro is 19. Who knows? Certainly not me. Anyway, enjoy the sin.

With all the excitement from the last few days—with the Galra attack on the castle, the whole nearly dying thing, the rescue of the Balmerans, and the appearance of another Robo monstrosity— Lance hadn’t really had a chance to have a one-and-one talk with Pidge. 

After coming out to the group as a girl—though it was only a surprise to Lance—he’d felt strangely off. He knew Pidge’s gender didn’t change anything; Pidge was still Pidge, after all. Regardless, Lance felt the need to talk to him— _her_ , to assure Pidge that they were still friends, that nothing had to change between them, despite how he may have initially reacted.

He wasn’t sure why he felt it was necessary, but Lance felt the need to reassure her— though it was more for Lance’s sake than Pidge’s. (Not that he’d ever admit it.)

Lance decided to go stop by in the evening, or whatever could be considered “night” in space. Pidge had decided to retire early, saying she had some work to do before bed. Lance figured it was as good a time as any to talk to her alone. 

“Well,” Lance began, standing up from the couch and stretching, “It’s been fun, but I’m gonna hit the hay. Gotta get my beauty sleep, after all.”

“Yeah, you’re probably gonna need it,” Keith muttered, a little too loud to be subtle.

“Okay, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Lance said flatly, shooting a pointed look at Keith, who was trying to hide an all-too-obvious smirk and a chuckle.

“Okay, you two,” Shiro said, his tone growing similar to that of a chastising parent telling her kids to behave. Which was hilarious to Lance, seeing as Shiro was only a year or two older than the rest of the team—plus Lance hadn’t even _said_ anything to warrant chastising. 

Shiro’s tone softened to a much friendlier one, “See you tomorrow, Lance. Don’t sleep in too late, though, I’d like us to all go through some training exercises in the morning.”

Lance threw his head back, letting out an exaggerated groan, “Ugh, exercising? _Morning_? Why do you always have to combine my two least favorite things?”

“Good _night_ , Lance,” Shiro said again, so Lance raised his hands over his head.

“Okay, fine, I know when I’m no longer wanted. See you losers on the flip side.”

Lance shoved his hands into his pants pockets, strolling causally out of the room. With the rest of Team Voltron’s voices drifting into the background, Lance took his planned detour to Pidge’s room.

“Okay, Pidge? I’m cool with you being a girl! No, that’s… not the best way to word is,” Lance muttered to himself, practicing what to say before reaching her room.

“Hey Pidge! It’s Lance! I know I acted weird about it, but I don’t care that you’re a girl. You don’t even act like one! Okay, no, that’s even worse.” He slapped himself on the cheeks, “Pull it together, Lance. This is Pidge we’re talking about! This shouldn’t be so difficult!”

Lance stopped outside her room, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t make Pidge mad or give her the wrong message. He paused when he heard Pidge’s voice through the door.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” she was saying, her tone a combination of annoyed and frustrated, “this shouldn’t be so _difficult_.”

Was she working on a gadget, Lance wondered? This was perfect! He’d walk on in, offer up his assistance, help Pidge with her gadget, and it would show Pidge that Lance was still there for her, their friendship unchanged. He ran a hand through his hair and put on his best, smug smile. He knocked on the door briefly, finding it to be cracked open already. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Hey, Pidge, couldn’t help but overhear your frustration. Need some help on a gad— _oh_.”

Pidge was sitting up on her bed, a pillow propped up behind her, with only an undershirt on, a pair of boxers at her feet. Lance didn’t miss the flush on her face and the placement of her hands. She looked toward Lance, her expression surprised and shocked.

“ _Lance_?”

“Oh God, I’msosorry!” Lance exclaimed, looking away as quickly as he could, his face heating up in embarrassment.

“What are you _doing_ here?”

“I, uhm, just wanted to stop by, to uh… let you know that our friendship doesn’t change now that you’re a girl! Or, I mean, uh, now that I know you’re a girl, since you were… always one, I guess… uhm. You sounded frustrated, so I thought you were having trouble with a gadget or something and wanted to offer my help?”

Pidge let out an annoyed huff, “Well, _yeah_ , I sounded frustrated; I’m trying to masturbate and am having trouble coming, if you _must_ know.”

Lance stole a glance in her direction, seeing that Pidge had pulled her legs closer to her chest, her body tense and her face flushed red in embarrassment and anger.

“Oh!” Lance squeaked, “Well, my offer to help still stands!”

As soon as the words left his lips, he winced. Great, now Pidge was going to think he was gross and throw something at him, probably.

He was more than surprised when Pidge let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders melting away.

“… Fine, just close the door behind you and get over here before I change my mind.”

Lance looked at her in shock, unsure if he’d heard her right. Did she really just say yes to Lance helping her masturbate?

“Well?” Pidge pressed, snapping Lance out of his stupor. He quickly shut the door as she asked and skittered to the end of her bed, sitting down awkwardly and constantly avoiding her gaze.

“Come closer, you dolt. You can’t do much from all the way over there.”

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat, finding himself sweating way more than necessary.

_Calm down, Lance,_ he told himself, scooting forward until he was at Pidge’s feet.

“So, uh,” Lance began, scratching the back of his neck. “What do you want me to do?”

Pidge held out her hand, a small bullet vibrator resting on her palm.

“You know what this is, right?”

“Wh—of course I know— _yes_.”

“Okay, good start. Please tell me you know how to find the clitoris, too.”

Lance paused, taking the vibrator from her hand and inspecting it. He lowered his voice slightly, “I, uh… might need a little reminder?”

“It’s the little nub above the vaginal opening. It’s sensitive and will result in orgasm upon stimulation.”

“Okay, the orgasm thing I knew,” Lance said, embarrassed by his lack of knowledge. He cleared his throat, “And how do I… find it?”

“You’ll know when I react,” Pidge deadpanned. “Press the button on the bottom to turn it on and rotate it through the different speed types. It has seven different speed settings, but I prefer the second one.”

Lance turned the vibrator over, finding the button on the bottom, “Oh.” He pressed it once to turn it on, then again to the setting Pidge preferred. He looked at her legs, which were still pressed together. Her legs looked dainty to Lance, which was new—he’d never really seen Pidge as the “dainty” type.

As normal and unfazed Pidge acted, her cheeks were still pink as she slid her legs down and apart, ever so slightly, giving Lance room to work. He dared to scoot slightly closer, moving his hand down to Pidge’s vagina, pressing the vibe between the lips, trying to blindly find the right spot—too embarrassed to even look.

“A little higher,” Pidge said, placing her hand over Lance’s and guiding it, helping tilt the vibe upwards ever so slightly. When it hit the spot, Pidge let out a breathy, “Oh,” and let her hand drift away from Lance’s. He watched as she let her eyes drift closed and her breathing hitched, slowly becoming more labored.

Lance didn’t know where to look. He felt like it would be inappropriate to stare at her vagina, and he felt weird looking at her face while her eyes were closed, so his eyes drifted to her chest. He’d never really noticed it after all, since the clothes she wore always hid any hint of breasts. They weren’t large, by any means, but Lance could see her nipples poking against the fabric of her undershirt, and he found them surprisingly… cute. He’d always considered himself a “big breasts” man, but he found himself with a strong desire to touch Pidge’s breasts.

He was so busy being distracted that he didn’t notice when Pidge opened her eyes. When he heard Pidge speak, he jumped ever so slightly.

“If you’re going to keep looking at them like that, you might as well touch them.”

Lance looked up, meeting her gaze, “Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I’m just not used to—”

“Lance,” Pidge said, pausing to let out a small moan, “I just gave you permission to,” she took a shaky breath, “… touch my breasts. Are you really… gonna pass that up?”

He felt his mouth go dry, but she was right; he may be a huge flirt, but when would he ever actually get another chance to touch a girl’s boobs? He took the plunge, slowly snaking his free hand up Pidge’s shirt.

Her skin was pleasantly warm and he could feel her chest rise and fall against his hand. Lance wasn’t really sure what to do, so he started to simply squeeze gently. When that didn’t seem to do anything for Pidge, he ran a finger over her nipple, which made her squirm, letting out a soft moan. She reached for him, placing on hand on his shoulder and clutching a fist full of his shirt in her palm.

Lance could feel his pulse racing, his face flushing hotly. Making Pidge moan, making her feel good, was… really hot. He could feel his dick hardening in his pants, but told himself that was a problem for later. Right now, Pidge was the priority.

He rubbed over her nipple again, using two fingers this time to give her nipple a pinch. She let out a louder moan this time, which made Lance grin—despite his lack of experience, he was doing well.

Lance raised his gaze to look at Pidge’s face, realizing, belatedly, that she wasn’t wearing her glasses. He didn’t recall a time seeing Pidge without them, and he never really noticed just how _pretty_ the shade of brown looked.

“What’s… with that look?” Pidge asked between ragged breaths.

“I’ve never really seen your eyes up close,” Lance admitted, “They’re beautiful.”

Pidge’s eyes widened at the compliment, stuttering out a response, “I-I… thanks, no one’s ever— _ooh_ ,” her eyes fluttered shut again, her shoulders tensing and toes curling into the blanket. Lance could tell she was getting close, but wasn’t sure what else to do to help ease her along.

His eyes fell to her exposed collarbone and her neck, finding himself asking without much thought, “Can I kiss your neck?”

Pidge just nodded, unable to say much through her moaning.

Lance leaned forward and began kissing her collarbone, slowing trailing up her neck to her ear. He planted a kiss on her earlobe then pulled back, ever so slightly, to breathe.

“You look so good right now, Pidge,” he said softly before pressing another kiss to the nape of her neck. 

She came shortly after, pulling herself as close to Lance as she could, muffling her moans the best she could against his shoulder. He could feel her body shake against his, her breath dancing against his neck, her gasping and moaning music to his ears.

After a few moments, her body went slack, and she let out a long sigh. Lance pulled the vibrator away, pulling his hand out from under her shirt, as well.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft. Pidge nodded, releasing her hold on Lance’s shirt and letting her hand fall away. Lance clicked the bottom on the vibe a few times, until it shut off, and handed it back to Pidge.

“Thanks,” she admitted, “for your help.”

Lance just stared at Pidge, feeling like he was on cloud nine, “Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem. Glad I could help.”

Pidge looked down awkwardly, her face falling into an unreadable expression, “Oh. Lance, you uh… need some help, there?”

“What?” Lance asked, following his gaze down, realizing that he was sporting an impressive boner.  
Oh. That’s right, he’d forgotten about that.

“Do you… want me to…?” Pidge began, shifting her gaze from his boner to his face and back.

Lance flushed red, surprised at her offer. He waved his hands out in front of him, “O-Only if you want! I’m not gonna force you to do anything, after all, hah…”

Pidge rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a small smile and chuckle. She grabbed her discarded boxers and pulled them back on, motioning to Lance, “Come here, you big baby. Take my spot.”

She stood from the bed and pushed Lance down to her former position, climbing on top of him once he settled down, straddling his hips.

Pidge ran her hands down Lance’s chest to the edge of his pants, unbuttoning them with ease.

“Do you know how to do this?” Lance asked, his voice much more squeaky than he would’ve liked.

“I think so,” Pidge began, “I mean, I’ve read a lot of… uh… independently published erotic novels…”  
“Oh. Just, uh. Be gentle?”

Pidge rolled her eyes, leaning over to grab a bottle of lotion from the bedside table, “I’m not gonna pull your dick off, _relax_.”

Pidge lathered her hands with the lotion before putting it aside and Lance shifted a little, but found himself relaxing when she scooted closer, her legs straddling either side of him, her fingers nimbly reaching into his boxers to free his dick.

He began to feel self conscious under her focused gaze, suddenly paranoid of what she was thinking.  
Did she think his dick was small? Did she think it looked weird, or gross? What if she laughed at how it looked?

When she ran his fingers up along the large vein, he stopped caring.

Lance let out a strained breath, his hands clutching the sheets on Pidge’s bed. She continued to smoothly run her hand up the shaft, gliding her finger over the vein again and over the head, watching Lance squirm under her touch.

“Huh,” she said, matter-of-factly, “Those really _are_ sensitive spots.”

“ _Pidge_ ,” Lance moaned, trying to be stern but failing. Still, he got the point across.

“Right, sorry,” she apologized, more monotonous than sincere.

Even with her vocal discovery, Lance could still feel himself coming undone under her hand. This was _much_ different than touching himself—Pidge’s hands were softer, smaller, and being unable to know what was coming next was much more erotic. Plus, getting to see Pidge’s expression—seeing her eyebrows furrow in focus, her lips curl up into a slight smile every time he jerked and moaned—made it all the better.

Pidge straddling his sides was doing wonders for Lance’s imagination, too. His head was swimming with too many thoughts to handle, thoughts of Pidge straddling him in the bed in Lance’s room, thoughts of her giving him a blowjob, thoughts of them going all the way, Pidge moaning and calling out his name—

When she ran her thumb over the head of Lance’s penis again, he came, bringing his arm to his mouth to muffle his moans.

By the time his orgasm finished, Pidge had already climbed off of him, grabbed some nearby tissues, and began to clean up the mess that had been made. Lance heard him make a disappointed noise, “Aw, man, that stain is _never_ going to come out.”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh, starting with a light chuckle before it evolved into a loud, ugly laugh.

“Oh, ha _ha_ , hilarious,” Pidge said, tossing the tissues to the floor, “If you think it’s so funny, we’re using _your_ bed next time.”

Lance propped himself up on his elbows, grinning at Pidge, “So, there’s a next time?”

Pidge flushed bright red, looking away from Lance, “Well, _maybe_.”

“Does that mean you like me?” Lance asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

Pidge grabbed a nearby pillow and lobbed it at Lance’s head.

“Get out of my room before I kick you out.”

Lance took that as a “yes”.


End file.
